


The Professional

by Hope Meijer (Hopemeijer)



Category: Mission: Impossible (TV 1966)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance if you squint, Showoff, quirky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopemeijer/pseuds/Hope%20Meijer
Summary: "I said I wouldn't bother if I were you." He tilted his head in the general direction of the pool, where once again she was rising from the steps, water streaming down her limbs much to the fascination of the two closest men. "She'd chew you up and spit you out." [Cinnamon/Rollin if you squint hard enough]





	The Professional

She was like a dream.

She'd checked in to the hotel only a couple of days before but both mornings had been spent sunning herself by the exotic pool; thankfully right in front of Johnnie's little hut from where he dispensed towels and waited almost hand and foot on the guests.

He'd already served her a few times - watching her surreptitiously as she swam, her lithe body slicing through the water like a seal, until she surfaced and returned to her sun lounger where he'd be waiting with a towel so she could dry herself and not dampen the lounger cushion.

He wasn't the only one watching her. She'd turned plenty of heads when she first arrived and was still doing so even as she swam. Her swimsuit wasn't daring by any means, the soft yellow halter neck bustier and high waisted briefs only serving to accentuate her tiny waist and endless legs.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you," came an amused voice, and Johnnie looked to his left to see a tall man leaning casually against the frame of his small hut.

"Sorry, sir?"

Startling blue eyes regarded him cheerfully, and Johnnie felt woefully inadequate next to the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. "I said I wouldn't bother if I were you." He tilted his head in the general direction of the pool, where once again she was rising from the steps, water streaming down her limbs much to the fascination of the two closest men. "She'd chew you up and spit you out." Long, elegant fingers flicked and almost magically a cigarette appeared between the index and middle digits. He lifted a lighter to it, then took a deliberate drag. "Here, let me show you how a professional does it." With a final sardonic grin, Tall Dark and Handsome took a fresh towel from Johnnie's hands and sauntered to meet the lady at her lounger.

Intrigued, the young pool boy watched as the man leant down and murmured something in her ear, handing her the towel. Johnnie wasn't the only onlooker as she listened; men who hadn't yet garnered nerve to approach her were waiting to see how the contender for her affections was received.

The conversation was short, Tall Dark and Handsome exuding confidence whilst gesturing briefly in Johnnie's direction and even through the overlarge sunglasses perched on her petite nose he imagined he could feel the heat of her gaze, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Words were exchanged, looks were shared, and the man was grinning at her when suddenly and without warning she lifted her hand and a resounding slap sounded across the pool area. Silence descended as the few people not already observing the pair were now avidly watching the by-play.

Picking up her bag, settling a broad-brimmed sun hat on her short, styled blonde hair and slipping her dainty heels on, the lady made her way over to Johnnie's hut as if she were on a catwalk.

"I was wondering if you could escort me to the infirmary," she asked, her voice soft and melodic. Johnnie gulped, nodding, as she continued, "I'm feeling a touch of heatstroke and don't think I can make it on my own. Besides, I don't trust that any of these men won't take advantage of me."

He scrambled out of the hut and offered his arm, her slender hand tucking in the crook of his elbow. So focused was he on staying upright and walking in a straight line with the beautiful creature beside him, he missed the satisfied smirk Cinnamon Carter sent over her shoulder at Rollin Hand, who stood by the empty lounger rubbing his cheek where a perfect red handprint was forming.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: The blame for this is placed squarely on the shoulders of ActionFantasyLuver. I'm a fan of Barbara Bain and Martin Landau, and having never seen Mission: Impossible I was curious about their characters. I read AFL's M:I fic 'You Worry About Rollin' and was intrigued enough to watch the first episode. This ficlet popped into my head immediately...now I have the entire first season to work my way through!


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